You heard me, take it off
by aheartmadefullmetal16
Summary: In reponse to an anon prompt on tumblr. Even though the Promised Day has come and gone, memories of the past still linger in Riza's mind, with no intention of disappearing any time soon. Oneshot, Royai, post Promised Day.


_**A/N:** This was in response to an anon prompt on tumblr. It's from the same conversation starter post as "Teach me how to play"._

* * *

"Wake up, Riza." Her father's voice was angry and impatient. _It's the middle of the night, what could he possibly need from me right now?_ she thought, annoyed. Nevertheless she wearily rolled out of bed, rubbing her eyes. She waited for her father to continue speaking, but to her surprise he simply turned away and left. A little perturbed, Riza stuffed her feet into her slippers and set off.

She followed her father down the hall, down the rickety staircase, and into his workroom. Jars and boxes of mysterious substances sat on shelves along the walls, and books were crammed in every available space. _He's going to blow something up in here one day and be condemned to a fiery death,_ she thought sarcastically. Riza didn't appreciate being woken up in the dead of night without an explanation, and that tended to kick her sarcasm into high gear.

"Take off your shirt," Berthold said without turning around.

"What?" Riza asked, confused. Apprehension and fear leaked into her veins, activating her adrenaline. _What on earth could he be planning? Is he going to test something on me?_ She shuddered, and goosebumps popped up on every inch of her skin.

"You heard me. Take. It. Off." Her father whirled around, a dangerous look in his eyes. He held a dangerously thick, red-hot scalpel in one hand, and a flask of what looked suspiciously like blood in the other.

Riza backed away, the adrenaline in her system pounding a fierce tattoo against her skin. Her father closed in on her, his eyes seeming to glow with evil, with jealousy, with pure hatred.

* * *

"Lieutenant?" Roy's voice was wary as it broke through her slumber.

With a jolt she awoke, her head lifting rapidly off her hand, where it had been resting. Her elbow slipped off of her desk and her knuckles struck the hard wood, making her wince. "Sir," she replied, her voice slightly drawling. She shook her head. _That's the third time this week that I've had that nightmare._ In reality she hadn't acquired her tattoo like she had in the dream, but lately her subconscious seemed to be fond of fabricating more gruesome scenarios for the events of her past. She felt as if she were simultaneously going to throw up and faint.

"Are you alright?" Roy asked her, his voice firm but sympathetic. She nodded her assent despite the truth, and he returned to his mound of paperwork, though she knew he was loath to do so. If they weren't at work and finishing an overload of debriefs from the Promised Day, she knew he would pull her aside and listen with full attention and sympathy. However, with Havoc back and recently healed, along with Breda, Falman, and Fuery in the office, they could not risk going off alone. Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, Riza secretly cursed the anti-fraternization laws. Stretching her limbs and cracking her knuckles, she wearily returned to the papers on her desk, willing her heartbeat to slow down.

* * *

Later that night, Roy and Riza found themselves to be alone in the office; all the other men had gone home (Havoc had winked at them both suggestively, gnawing on a cigarette, the spring in his step infectious). Once everyone had left, Riza had let out a huge sigh of exasperation, much to Roy's amusement.

"I thought I was supposed to be the one horribly bored with all the work," he said, smirking. His eyes were bright with their renewed sight, and a playful air accompanied his words.

"Aren't you currently avoiding a whole stack of paperwork?" Riza challenged, eyeing a stack of white sheaves he was unsuccessfully hiding on the floor next to his desk.

"I was hoping you wouldn't notice that," he laughed. He stretched down to pick the stack up, his hair falling into his eyes. Suddenly taken by a strong desire to run her fingers through it, Riza left her chair and walked quietly to Roy's desk. He shot her a questioning glance, but did not speak. She brushed his hair back, but this was futile; it simply fell back into place. He smiled at her, taking her hand. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice soft and comforting.

"I had the dream again," Riza said, her cheeks burning slightly. She still didn't like talking about it, but she knew that Roy wouldn't stop worrying till she explained.

"The same one? That makes three times this week," said Roy, his brow furrowing. He laced his fingers through hers. "What brought it on?"

"I don't know," Riza replied. "It's just been rolling around in my head for a few days. I'm sure it'll go away sooner or later." _Please let it be soon,_ she begged. Her father wasn't the most affectionate man in the world, but he certainly hadn't been a vicious monster like the man in her visions. "I don't like remembering him that way. He didn't force me to get this tattoo, I willingly let him put it there."

"That doesn't mean it doesn't still haunt you," Roy said quietly. His eyes were full of love and concern, and her heart ached under his gaze. Standing up quietly, he led her to the couch, sitting next to her and placing his arm around her waist. Part of her wanted to tell him to wait, to not put them into what could be considered a compromising situation, but her nerves were shot and all she wanted to do at the moment was be in his arms. Besides, Havoc had locked the door behind him as he left.

She considered his words. It had been years now since she'd begged Roy to burn the array from her back, and so she rarely thought about the tattoo. Little aches and pains would plague her every once in a while, but mostly, she gave the scars little thought.

Yet, when her subconscious got particularly creative, the memory of the agony would wash over her, and she would be left shaken for the rest of the day. Getting that tattoo had been the most painful experience of her life, including when Roy had partially burned it off. She knew that she had allowed her father to put his notes there, and she knew how important they were, but part of her still wondered, _why me? Why on my skin?_ Riza did not hate her father, but she also wasn't entirely sure she loved him, or cherished the memories she had of him.

"I still wonder why he had to put it on _my_ skin," Riza said quietly. "I let him, but…" She trailed off, unsure of how to articulate her thoughts.

"I'm sorry it's getting at you, even after all these years," Roy replied. He pressed a soft kiss to her temple. "He can't get to you anymore. He can't hurt you again."

"I know," Riza muttered. The anxious churning in her stomach was beginning to die down, and she leaned against Roy's shoulder, breathing deeply. The scar on her neck stretched, and she winced. Roy placed his other hand on top of her clasped ones, and she sighed. _Of all the men to possibly end up with, you were lucky enough to get_ him, Riza marveled. Her thoughts wandered back to the day they had first met- he'd tripped up the stairs and she'd had to try valiantly to contain her laughter. Riza had mostly avoided him, choosing to stay unattached and aloof; none of her father's apprentices lasted for long. But he had pleasantly surprised her, not only with his talent but his determination to get to know her. She remembered his face the night she had been playing the piano and he had walked in on her. In that instant, she had known instinctively that he was different- that he would be staying in her life for a long time. So far, that instinct had proven to be accurate.

Deep in her thoughts, she was surprised when Roy spoke. "Come on, let's get this work finished so we can go home," he said gently.

Riza was shocked. "You, wanting to do paperwork? Who are you and what have you done with Roy Mustang?"

Roy laughed, a sweet baritone hum that eased all of Riza's remaining anxieties away. "It's not so much the paperwork that's got me excited. I just want to get out of here."

Sighing, Riza reluctantly untangled herself from Roy's embrace and stood. "I do, too. Come on," she directed, pulling his hand. He followed quickly, swiftly planting a kiss on her cheek as he did so. Riza smiled. Enduring the hell that was the Promised Day had only solidified their bond, securely sealing away any doubts. She had noticed his unconscious tendency to look to her more often than usual, as if reassuring himself that she was still by his side. She always would be, of course.

Even if it meant following him into Hell itself.

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 _ **A/N:** Leave a review! :)_


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